Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope that
this two-parter is to your taste, and that your taste is to fluff and
nonsense with a healthy dose of "family" stuff.

Many many thanks to Kyabetsu, my
invaluable consultant in all things Comic-- and the bestest person
for helping out when one is stuck on a plot point!

TMNT are the property of Mirage and
Peter Laird. Anything with ™ after it is a real invention that I
found on the Internet. The Rat and the Bishamon designs mentioned
are also from the Internet from a crafts shop. The O. Henry story
this is inspired by and quoted from is in the public domain. I'm
making my list and checking it twice, but somehow I don't think
Playmates will ever make a large Splinter doll just for me...

"The
Gift of the Magi-angelo" Part One

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That
was all. And

sixty cents of it was in pennies.
Pennies saved one and two

at a time by bulldozing the grocer and
the vegetable man and

the butcher until one's cheeks burned
with the silent

imputation of parsimony that such close
dealing implied.

Three times Della counted it. One
dollar and eighty-seven

cents. And the next day would be
Christmas.

O. Henry

Mikey sighed deeply. He stared at the
amount of money spread out on his bed and knew that, no matter how
much he looked at it, it would not magically increase.

He'd been working hard for April and
Casey since October at any chore they felt pity enough to pay him
for-- and yet it STILL wasn't enough for Sensei's Christmas
present (which he had stubbornly NOT told said employers how much it
was going to cost, as he did NOT want charity-- NOT this time!).

Of course they knew it must be a large
amount; Mike's dogging them at all hours, looking for any job they
were willing to pay him for, had been enough of a hint. April,
knowing what the gift was, had warned him that those items were
rather costly. But she had no idea of the actual price-- and she
couldn't bring herself to ask.

Mike gazed at the printout of the
finished item he so wanted to give Splinter for Christmas-- indeed,
had COMMISSIONED for Splinter's gift--the image was so worn and
creased that much of the glorious detail was fading, but to
Michelangelo it glowed as if it were there before him, in the
awestruck and grateful hands of his father.

"I have to get this for him! I have
to!" he reminded himself. "I ordered it-- I designed it! I
need to finish paying for it!"

And he wasn't TOO far off the price
of the gift!

He only needed two hundred more
dollars, and the gift would be his! HIS to place in Sensei's
hands, HIS to astound and amaze his brothers with his thoughtfulness
and generosity.

He started remembering how this had all
started; back in September he'd seen this perfect quilt block of
the Rat while cruising the web for art supplies-- he had been toying
with the idea of branching out into other areas-- and he had found
this twelve inch by twelve inch quilt square of the Rat from the
Zodiac-- it had looked so intriguing-- and THEN the idea had come to
him to make his father a quilt-- a quilt of the Rat surrounded by
loyal and loving turtle images!

And when he'd come up with the idea,
it was so clear in his mind-- but when he'd looked into how to make
a quilt, it didn't take long for him to realize that his skills
would not be sufficient for such a project.

He then tried to find such an item
already made; after all, this WAS the Internet! He had searched
every site he could think of, even the auction sites that he loved so
much, and it had shocked him that such things were NOT available even
in this day and age.

But, with the help of April, he'd
found out that such a thing could be ordered; could be commissioned!

"But Mikey, those things are
expensive," she had warned. "And if you commission it, it's
going to cost even more!"

Mike, however, was not to be dissuaded.
Quickly the idea of just how it should look formed in his mind, and
he drew out what he wanted-- and it would be perfect!

He ordered the patterns for what was
available, and then, utilizing his artistic abilities, he drew out
how the quilt should look: the Bishamon (Japanese Treasure design)
would be the background. In the center was to be the block of the
Rat from the Japanese Zodiac, looking proud and appearing with the
God Daikoku's mallet that bestows wealth. He imagined that Splinter
must have looked like this, all those years ago-- it was sort of like
having Sensei's baby picture!

Then-- he wanted four images of Genbu,
the Black Turtle (A/N: one of the "Four Gods" in Chinese and
Japanese myth), one for each corner-- but there were none to be
found. The woman he had found who who made quilts said that she
could make the blocks herself if he designed it, but it would cost
extra.

And boy, did it!

Well, this WAS for Sensei! So Mike,
after much research, managed to make out FOUR distinct "Turtle
Generals" that blended traditional art work and yet could easily be
seen to be each one of them as well.

It was TEMPTING to add a fifth turtle
(being him again), right next to the rat block, standing guard-- but
that would have thrown off the visual balance (as well as opening
himself up to much teasing and criticism from his brothers).

Mike gazed at the printout of the
result of the woman's weeks of work-- it was gorgeous! It was a
thing of beauty; indeed, she had had many offers to buy it while she
worked on it in her shop, some of the offers several hundred dollars
more than HE was paying, in fact.

But even though he was behind in the
final payment, she was an honorable person, and said she would hold
it until he could pay for it-- and he still owed her two hundred
dollars.

And Christmas was only a week away!

Mike stared again at his money. It was
a far cry from two hundred. He watched as Klunk, seeking his
attention, pounced upon the pitiful pile of cash and began to play
with it.

"I can't ask Casey and April-- I
just can't!" he spoke to the cat as he gently rescued a precious
twenty from the mighty hunter known as Klunk. "Maybe I should ask
the guys? Even though I know they already got him something... I
could say it's from all of us!"

But even as he vocalized that to his
cat, he knew it would be useless. They each might give him some
money, but he was pretty sure that all three together would not have
two hundred dollars. They, too, had earned money helping out various
"safe" humans. But they had only done so to buy Sensei their
gifts. And they had gotten really nice ones, at reasonable prices.
He was the one who, while looking to get the bestest gift in the
world, had gone far beyond his budget and good sense.

Klunk meowed in reply, as if reading
his thoughts, and jumped up onto his precious Mikey, purring in an
encouraging way as he sought out his favorite perch on the turtle's
shoulder, where he could rub and nuzzle Mike's cheek and chin to
his heart's content.

"You're right, Klunkers. It never
hurts to try!"

And with new determination, he headed
out to Don's new lab. Don was the best with money-- and Mike WAS
his favorite brother, after all!

Mike considered turning on "the
eyes", but held back. Weapons of that nature needed to be used
sparingly and at just the right heart-tugging moment.

"Aww, c'mon, Don! I have the
perfect gift, and I've been paying and paying on it, but I'm just
a little bit short of the final payment!" Mike said, keeping the
whine out of his voice and at the same time pleading. "I can say
that it's from all of us! And it would be, even though it was all
my idea and I've paid MOST of it, and you guys would only be paying
a small part of it."

"Skeptical" definitely was the word
to describe the look Don favored his brother with.

"How small a part?"

Mike cleared his throat, determined to
pull this off.

"Ooooh, only about sixty-five
dollars," he responded, keeping his voice as nonchalant as
possible (and failing miserably).

Don's snort told the turtle that this
had been a fool's mission.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said,
just the right amount of dejection in his tone. "The eyes" were
on standby, waiting for the moment to spring their
emotional-wrenching trap on the brainy brother. "I guess I'll be
the only one without a gift for Sensei this year."

"The eyes" allowed their potent
power to appear just for a brief moment-- a taste of their might, as
it were. It'd be nice if Don would cave before Mike had to resort
to such a weapon.

"Tell you what," Don said, still
eyeing his brother. "Help me out with this bet I have, and I'll
cut you in for half of it. It won't be as much as you apparently
need, but it'll be more than you have now."

"Nope. We have a bet on what type of
useless present you got for Sensei this year."

A stunned silence, followed by
righteous indignation.

"I don't get useless
gifts for Sensei! When have I EVER given a 'useless' gift to
sensei?"

Don contemplated Mike as if he were one
of his experiments. He needed to say nothing. Mike read his look
perfectly.

"Okay, but c'mon, I was six at the
time!" he defended himself. "I thought he'd like it!"

"What about the Sauce Dispensing
Chopsticks™ from last year?"

"Those were COOL! I can't help it
if Sensei had trouble working them. And it was funny when all that
sauce squirted out and hit Raph right in the face! Besides, Splinter
said they were a very thoughtful gift!"

"I think the exact phrase was 'Who
would ever have thought of buying such a gift?'."

"No he didn't. And what about the
present I got him the year before, eh?" Mike was ready to fight.
How dare his brothers bet on him like some kind of loser!

Now Don laughed aloud.

"The NAP Alarm™? Honestly, Mike,
that had to be the dumbest--"

"Splinter thanked me! He said that
he needed something to keep him from falling asleep whenever you
started talking all technology and science!"

Don shrugged, but the hard look in his
eyes showed that the shot had struck home.

"I guess you don't need that money
so desperately after all," he mused.

"I guess I don't!" Mike and his
injured pride shook the dust from his feet and left the Lab, swearing
to never return in his entire lifetime.

Merrrow Klunk purred apologetically in
Mike's ear, and the turtle reached up to scratch his loyal kitty
behind the ears.

"It's not your fault,
Klunkie-wunkie," Mike assured him. "It was a good idea. I just
chose the wrong brother. Or rather, brothers," he added,
reminding himself that all three were betting on him-- or rather,
against him!

He wandered out into the living area
with the idea of watching some tv, looking for diversion from his
problem, yet his mind stuck on Christmas.

Christmas. He so loved Christmas. But
today he could only think of how he could get two hundred dollars in
time to get the quilt in time for Christmas.

"Will you buy my hair?"

He heard before he even came in view of
the bank of tvs that someone was already watching a movie.

"Oh, this is the most romantic
movie," he heard April sigh. When he came around the corner he
saw that April was on the couch with Splinter and Casey, watching
some old black and white movie. Great.

"What's so romantic about it?"
Casey wondered, a sour note to his tone of voice. "So far it's
been nothin' but a buncha short stories that make no sense. I
mean, that bum who wanted ta get arrested couldn't until he decided
ta go straight! What kind of romantic story is that?"

April favored Casey with a stern look
over the head of Splinter who was (safely or not, depending upon
one's point of view) seated between the two.

"Just because it doesn't have car
chases, explosions, and wall-to-wall violence doesn't mean you have
to be so negative," she huffed. "And I was referring to this
particular part of the movie."

Casey (and Mike, safely in the shadows
just observing) turned his eyes back to the movie.

"So her sellin' her hair ta buy a
present for her husband is romantic? What's romantic about her
cuttin' off her hair?" Casey shook his head. "This whole
movie's been a waste-- well, except for that one where the crooks
kidnap that brat of a kid an' the dad won't take him back until
they PAY him ta do it. But the rest don't make no sense."

"Mr. Jones, I gather you are
unfamiliar with O. Henry?" Splinter, irritated by the young man's
obvious ignorance, nevertheless was polite and respectful. But only
just. The man had groused and grumbled and offered editorial
comments throughout the entire film.

"Oh Henry™? Naw, I prefer
Snickers™ ta Oh Henry™."

"Casey--" April began, but
Splinter halted her.

"Never mind, my daughter. Let us
enjoy the rest of our movie."

Mike by now was watching the story, as
the woman, hair gone and money in hand, buys a chain for her
husband's watch.

Must be nice to have hair to sell

, he
mused as the tale played out before him. The woman bought a
beautiful chain for her husband's watch-- he smiled, imagining Raph
wearing such a chain to check his old pocket watch that Sensei had
given him when they were kids. "Hold on, guys, gotta check the
time," he could almost hear him growl, as he pulled the watch from
a special place on his belt, the fancy chain declaring to the world
that this was a Ninja with style.

Mike was transfixed. The husband had
bought the woman beautiful combs for her hair ("TORTOISE shell?
That is SO wrong!") which, naturally, she had sold-- and then it
was revealed that HE had sold his watch to buy the combs, so the
chain was pretty useless...

"Aw, c'mon! She cuts off her hair
and THEN he buys her the combs?" Casey's indignant tone cut into
Mike's thoughts. "An' on top of that, he sells his WATCH?
What kind of dumb movie--"

"It's ROMANTIC!" April defended.
"They each one sacrificed something precious to them for the ONE
person who was MORE important to them than 'things'!"

"It's stupid! Why not just get a
credit card?"

"Look here, Arnold Casey Jones, I've
heard enough from you!" April exploded. "You didn't have to
watch, and I warned you this wasn't your kind of film, but nooo!
YOU had to join in!"

"I joined in because I'm tryin'
ta like what you like!" he snapped back. "Ain't you the one
always sayin' 'Casey, just once I wish you'd like what I
like'."

"Yes-- LIKE it, not sit there and
carp about it the entire time!"

"What's ta like? Five little shows
in one movie, and four of them were borin' and made no sense! I
mean, even the one with the kid ended strangely!"

"That was the POINT of O. Henry
stories! They ended with a twist that caught the reader by
surprise!"

"The only surprise is that I made it
ta the end of this movie! And HOW was that last one romantic?"

"So, if I cut off MY hair to buy YOU
a special gift, you'd think that was stupid, huh?"

Casey favored her with a hard look.

"You plannin' on cuttin' yer
hair? How short? I don't want no girlfriend with a boy's
haircut!"

April stood up, ready to strike.

"And WHOSE hair is it, I might ask?
MINE, that's whose, MR. Jones! YOU have NO say over what I do with
my hair!"

"I didn't say I had a say about yer
hair, I just said--"

"I heard what you said, and if I want
to shave myself bald it's MY business, NOT yours!"

Casey came up off the couch, towering
above the redhead, matching her angry glare for angry glare.

"There's no way I'll let you
shave yerself bald, April, and that is final!" he shouted, jabbing
his finger in the air at her to emphasize his point.

April's eyes went narrow, and then
her arm shot out, intercepting the gesturing one of Casey's.

The fight, refereed by Splinter, went
on as a thoughtful Michelangelo left the room.

Sell something?

Could I sell something? I mean, sure,
I don't have hair, but perhaps I could sell Raph's watch!

I mean, he doesn't really use it...

Naturally, Mikey's good sense took
hold of him, reminding him that selling something that wasn't his
was not a good idea.

But... could I sell something of mine?
Do I even have anything worth two hundred dollars?

Two minutes later he was in his room,
gathering his most precious items and laying them out on his bed,
prepared to examine each with a critical eye and a monetary motive...

(to be continued)

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